o'captain, my captain

was that ROBERT SEAN LEONARD? Oh no no, that was just NEIL PERRY, a CANON CHARACTER from DEAD POETS SOCIETY. They are EIGHTEEN years old and ARE NOT aware that they are not actually from Washington, DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

[poetryread]

grcycosmcs​:

        wednesday looks down to the book she had grabbed. it isn’t hers , she had just found it  &  picked it up as it was left unattended. “  no ,  ” she answers simply. “  it doesn’t really look up to par with my standards.  ”

he frowns at this, eyebrows furrowing deeply in confusion. “ not up to your standards ? well-- what kind of books do you like ? “

[poetryread]

mvsicinthedvrk​:

Martin glances down at the book in his own hand, as if to remind himself what he’d picked out. “No, I haven’t, actually… but I, err, heard it was good? So I’m glad to have that confirmed.” He offers the stranger a tentative smile. He looks young, young enough to still be a student, perhaps. No harm in continuing to talk to him for a moment. “You said most books are your… favorites?”

“I did, I, uh. . . read a lot. at school, mostly, but. . . it’s nice.” he nods once, weight shifting from foot to foot in awkwardness at the question; he didn’t often grow awkward, but he didn’t want to say the wrong thing and cause issue in his first meeting with a stranger. “Midsummer’s Night Dream -- really a play, but. . . most people look confused when I reference it such; not just a Michelle Pfeiffer movie, after all.”

[poetryread]

“Have you read it?” he asks gently, his head nodding towards the book in the others hand. “One of my favourites, honestly -- most books are, though. . . Very lovely book.”

@hiddenstarters​

[nxt-bittcn-deactivated20201208]

OPEN STARTER | Clementine ✩

@hiddenstarters​ 

       ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩ Fingers lightly traced the outline of a figure in the torn picture. A smile threatened to twitch on the corner of her lips, however, a single tear trickled down the features of her face, slowly falling from her chin. A single shakey sigh parted the girl’s chapped lips, and with it a vapour cloud ascended towards the heavens, only to evapourate before ever reaching it. “I’m sorry.” A silent apology fell from her lips, one she was certain wouldn’t be heard. Her mind wondered on all the thoughts that would go unanswered. She tucked the photograph away, deep in her pocket; and moved her hands to pull her jacket zip further towards her neck to keep warm. 

Up until this point, she’d not paid much attention to the person sitting beside her. This new city had made her less attentive, a dangerous habit for someone like her to keep. Without even a look to the person beside her, she let her mind do the talking. “You ever think about them? The people that didn’t make it here… What they are doing… If they are surviving… Can they even survive without you? Is anything real…”

[poetryread]

he wasn’t paying much attention to the person next to him, either. brown eyes were stuck on the page in his lap, calloused fingers against egg-white pages, that old book smell filling his world and painting it with words and stanzas and verses -- poetry. something he couldn’t help but adore, his attention being stolen by it quite frequently. his head snaps up at the sound of a voice, always having been too aware of when someone requested his attention -- his father would surely lecture him if he hadn’t -- and he smiles gently, a polite action. 

“them? them who?” he questions lightly, eyebrows furrowed as he quickly bookmarks his book and closes the cover, the girl having his full attention. “of course this is real,” he laughs softly, “why wouldn’t it be? are you okay, ma’am?”

[poetryread]

softsliders19​:

The last name hit him like a truck. It was the last shred of confirmation he needed to know this was his Neil. He just didn’t remember him. And god that hurt. But it didn’t seem like he was going to remember anything. At least not yet. “Todd Anderson.” He almost couldn’t get it out.

“ Todd Anderson. . . “ He hesitates for a moment, almost losing himself in his own thoughts for a brief moment -- familiarity, though he doesn’t know where it comes from. “I-It’s nice to meet you, Todd.”

[poetryread]

softsliders19​:

So his name was Neil. This couldn’t just be a coincidence. But he didn’t want to scare him off. It was obvious that something happened that caused him not to remember anything.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m sorry to bother you. It was… stupid of me. But it’s nice to meet you, Neil.”

“It’s not a bother. Really, not at all -- I’m sorry that I got a little confused there,” he forces a smile, brown eyes gleaming with gentle warmth. with a soft chuckle, he pulls his hand back, realizing soon that it won’t be accepted. “so, ‘Todd’, you have a last name or are you trying the whole Madonna shtick? Neil Perry, myself, not that you really were too concerned by that, I suppose.”

[poetryread]

softsliders19​:

He really didn’t recognize him. He frowned. He didn’t know what felt worse, this or how they left it. He knew the answer though, at least he had him here even if he didn’t recognize him.

He held up his hands. “It’s alright. I think I got it wrong. You just… you just look so much like him.” He hadn’t even said if his name was Neil or not. Maybe he did have it wrong.

he nods, attempting to understand with some form of stability. with a pause -- a beat, a moment, a lifetime -- he swallows hard once more, forcing himself to fully meet this new stranger. hesitantly, he holds out his hand, providing permission this time for contact. 

“I’m sorry that I’m not him,” he admits, gently, confusion shifting into guilt and forced kindness. “Neil. I’m Neil.”

[poetryread]

softsliders19​:

Todd’s thrown off by the other’s confusion. God, what if he did get it wrong. Was this the universe throwing him a cosmic joke for fun. He hoped not. But he didn’t think Neil would mess with him like this. Not after everything. But what if he was?

“Stop messing around, man. It’s Todd.” He frowned, really hoping this was Neil. He looked into his eyes, hoping to see a hint of a joking gleam. Something to tell him that Neil remembered him. That this was his Neil and not just someone who looked a lot like him.

he steps backwards, eyebrows raising and meeting in the middle and brown eyes just glistening with pure confusion. neil swallowed hard for a moment, shaking his head. 

“t-this can’t be happening, I’m--” he pauses, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t know you, please don’t touch me.”

[softsliders19-deactivated202402]

Todd and Neil Closed Starter ( @poetryread​ )

He didn’t expect to see him here. Of course he hadn’t. He was confused as to why he himself was here. But he was slowly getting use to that. Seeing Neil was a whole other thing. Something he thought would never happen again. He was happy, of course, but so very confused. He wondered if maybe he had died himself and this was heaven. He could figure that out later though. For right now he wanted to talk to Neil.

He ran up to him. “Neil, oh god I’m so happy to see you! I missed you.” He had so much else he wanted to say, but he also wanted to hear Neil. He had missed hearing his voice everyday. He missed everything about him.

[poetryread]

everything he could remember was fake. he lived in the same tan house with the same dark roof with the same wooden floors and the same old tree out front, and now, that he’s an adult, he lives in just another boring apartment. he went to school, he came home, he went to work. a routine, no change whatsoever. life was boring, but he was content with it.

this? not boring. beyond not boring. the older boy is clearly confused by the young man’s speedy introduction, eyebrows furrowing together in deep confusion as he took a step back. “uhm. . . have we met?” 

[poetryread]

peony, gypsophila, and rhododendron

peony --  do you put more value in honour or truth?

    well, i think there is honour in truth; truth isn’t always easy, nor is it always a good thing. but, if it’s needed . . . seems pretty honourable, to me. however, honour is pretty overrated when it comes to status. i don’t know, it’s good to be liked, but it isn’t good to lie to yourself.

gypsophila -- do you prefer many distant friends, or a few close friends?

       a few close friends, though distance isn’t a huge deal for me. sometimes, friends just feel far away, even if they’re nearby, so . . . why worry about it? if you’re close, you’re close.

rhododendron -- what’s your biggest fear?

          rejection. loneliness. 

              someone else’s life.

[ask-bait]

💐 25 flower asks

rose - describe your crush.

cherry-blossom - do you believe in love at first sight?

daisy - what’s your best childhood memory?

daffodil - which colour suits you best?

peony - do you put more value in honour or truth?

iris - favourite 90s song?

sunflower - sun or moon?

narcissus - your best physical feature?

freesia - are you still friends with the person you considered your best friend two years ago?

orchid - favourite fruit?

violet - have you had your first kiss?

gypsophila - do you prefer many distant friends, or a few close friends?

gerbera - neon or pastel?

carnation - does true love exist?

alstroemeria - dream vacation?

anemone - were you ever interested in greek mythology?

cymbidium - sexuality?

rhododendron - what’s your biggest fear?

tulip - lucky number?

gladiolus - who do you look up to most?

snapdragon - favourite mythical creature?

hydrangea - proudest moment?

heather - what’s your favourite musical?

delphinium - what’s your star sign - does it suit you?

ginger - least favourite food?

[grcycosmcs]

open starter  //  @hiddenstarters​​

        seated alone at her table , mulan tries her best to ignore the rowdy group across the room. it should be easy enough for her , as she’s grown used to some of the annoying habits that seem prevalent among many men. as long as they’re not attempting to speak to her , she intends to mind her own business. though not entirely successful , she is able to focus her interest on the book in front of her for a few moments more before a loud crash does manage to steal her attention. she looks up just in time to see one of the seemingly drunken patrons laugh & pull himself up from where he had fallen. she rolls her eyes , a semi-amused scoff leaving her lips as she glances over at the next table. “ men , am i right  ? ”

[poetryread]

he’s, truthfully, not really paying attention to the others in the shop, his own book -- one of sonnets, of course -- taking all of his attention. neil is absolutely no stranger to rowdiness, having a history in public schooling before transferring to private schooling, and then university. people were just loud, sometimes, and he’s since learned to drown them out. guess he could say that drowning the right people out was his specialty. his attention is grabbed when he’s addressed directly, his head lifting and a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

    “ not men, boys. immaturity can be fatal, i’m afraid. “

[poetryread]

intro!

was that ROBERT SEAN LEONARD? Oh no no, that was just NEIL PERRY, a CANON CHARACTER from DEAD POETS SOCIETY. They are EIGHTEEN years old and ARE NOT aware that they are not actually from Washington, DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

tw’s (also tagged) : canonical suicide, death, child abuse / child neglect / emotional abuse

how long has your character been here

he’s been here for a about a week, actually! he has absolutely no clue of that, though, as he is cursed and believes he’s been there the entire time, just that he’s gone relatively unnoticed until now; makes sense, for him, as he was more academically focused and only hung around a close group of friends, rather than being extremely vocal or the class clown.

what is your character's job

he’s a university student, at the moment, majoring in english with an undecided minor, though he’s considering political science; his father isn’t too pleased regarding this choice, as he wanted a doctor for a son. but, for some reason that he is unaware of, any medical fields seem uncomfortable for him to be in, especially psychology.

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom

straight from the grave. dead poets society is depressing, i do not like sadness and want my baby boy back. so, he’s dead but . . . not, if that makes sense. the curse brought him back. 

has any magic affected your character

yes! he has absolutely no memory of his past life, including the dead poets society, and is currently living a new life; he is still neil perry, in his soft academic glory, with the same neglectful father and way-too-silent mother, but without hellwelton academy. 

and any other information you might find useful for us and the other members to know!!

my pronouns are he/they, I write neil as queer (as I am also) and can ship with characters of any gender, as long as there is chemistry. i do also really want a todd to love on, because todd/neil owns me. 

[poetryread]

                            a dependent portrayal of neil perry, 

                            penned by archaic for @hiddenwashington​